Things not to do on St. Patricks Day

You rat bastard.

 

Lay off Chef.

Tomas is the one whose wife has her balls in her purse.

 

And when did your wife last let yours out of her purse, dickhead?

 

I beat you in the NIT and your wife was drawn to me like ants to a discarded Blow Pop. Boo-ya!

 

You seem to have a strange fascination with other posters' balls. Mine, Tomas', Dickhead's. Trying to tell us something, Johnny Cakes?

 

BALLS.

 

Irish Bus Bombs. They turn out bad for everybody.

 

I didn't wear green. Then again, the closest thing I have to green is an aqua jersey of Mr. Marino.

What's your point?

 

I wore green to the laundromat, just because I didn't want other unsavory laundromat folk to lay their paws on me.

In an unrelated note, I've discovered that the 40-minute powernap in the car whilst waiting for the clothes to dry is one of lifes simpler pleasures.

 

That's a nice pair you've got there, 2mcm.

 

sidebar: mrs. petty let me look at my balls on saturday.